


Cutie's Comeback

by Sandyclaws68



Category: Naruto
Genre: Age Swap, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attraction, Gen, Humor, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:19:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4115302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandyclaws68/pseuds/Sandyclaws68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few drinks to relieve some stress was all Iruka expected out of the evening.  What he got was a whole lot more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cutie's Comeback

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Hey Cutie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4083157) by [megyal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal). 



> This one is for megyal and everyone that enjoyed her fic _Hey Cutie_. I was so intrigued by the scenario for a continuation that she posted in the comments that I had to take a shot at it, with her permission, of course. :D

Umino Iruka desperately needed a drink. One week into a new job and he was already on the verge of pulling his hair out. He had known it would be difficult to return to his hometown and blend back into the regular work-a-day world after almost six years on offshore oil rigs, but he had apparently not reckoned with _how_ difficult it would be. Dress codes, codes of conduct, non-everything policies, and rigid office protocol; all these things had put him in a horrible place, mentally and emotionally, by the end of his first day.

But he had to accept that his days of hell raising needed to be put behind him. And the accident that had nearly killed one of his closest friends had been a more than sufficient smack upside the head. So the jeans, hard hats, and steel-toed boots had been packed away in favor of neckties, sport coats, and wingtips. Only the long hair remained, and he was damned if he was going to give that up. His new employers were more than willing to accommodate that quirk in exchange for his engineering skill; their only condition being that as long as he was on the clock his hair would be tied up and restrained.

It was now approaching nine o'clock on a Friday evening, and his hair had long since been let loose. So had a pair of jeans, a plain white shirt, and a leather jacket. He wore work boots, but they weren't his favorite old, beat-up pair, but new ones of a type that were regarded as fashionable. All in all he looked respectable, if a little rough around the edges. He fit in perfectly with the late happy hour crowd in The Twisted Oak.

More than fit in, if the attention he received from an assortment of women was any indication. He had deliberately chosen to wear white, knowing that the contrast between it and his dark complexion and hair made him stand out in almost any crowd. Between that, the length of his hair, and the distinctive scar that crossed the bridge of his nose he could best be described as striking, although the glances from some women suggested drop-dead gorgeous might be more appropriate.

Too bad for them Iruka much preferred men.

Not that he was necessarily looking for anything at this point in his life. He had already endured quite a few changes and upheavals over the past six months, which meant a relationship was the absolute last thing he needed right now. _Of course, knowing the way the world works that means the man of my dreams will walk into this bar in the next ten minutes_ , he thought to himself with a rueful grin.

**************

Hatake Kakashi desperately needed a drink. His first full week of teaching on his own had proven to be much more stressful than expected, and he was seriously considering an adjustment to his life goals. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if he had chosen a school other than the one he had attended, but he couldn't imagine being anywhere else. Still, maybe he could get them to remove that photo of his seventh year championship lacrosse team from the trophy case outside the administrative office. Or at the very least replace it with a smaller one, one in which he wouldn't be so easily recognizable.

Because that damned photo had been the cause of most of his stress that week. There hadn't been a single class in which at least one student mentioned it, and then all the questions they had been holding in while he was with a senior instructor had come pouring out. That and the not-so-subtle flirting from all of the seventh, and most of the sixth, year girls.

Kakashi wasn't an idiot any more than he was oblivious to what he looked like. The distinctive pale hair that was forever out of control, the eye patch that covered his damaged left eye, the scarf that perpetually shadowed the lower half of his face and gave few hints of the strong features underneath: all of that on top of the long, lean, well muscled body meant he was no stranger to intrigued attention from members of both genders. And he appreciated both, but over years of wondering, searching, and experimenting he had come to the conclusion that he much preferred men.

He sighed as he pushed open the door to The Twisted Oak. He knew his old friends from school were expecting him to join them, but he didn't feel up to dealing with some noisy club, full of drunk and rowdy twenty-somethings (not the least of which would be his friend Gai). No, the sedate atmosphere of a quiet restaurant/bar was more what his frazzled nerves needed. At least that was what he thought until he froze in the archway leading to the bar, every nerve suddenly jangling for his attention.

There was a man sitting at the bar, and something about him seemed familiar, although Kakashi couldn't place exactly why. But that dark hair and the long legs wrapped around the bar stool evoked some long-buried memory in him. Then the man turned his head to dismiss a particularly persistent woman (Kakashi had to laugh at the look on her face as she stormed off in a huff) and he caught sight of a scar that crossed the bridge of the man's nose and extended across both cheeks. And he knew.

**************

Iruka all but snorted into his glass as the woman flounced away, muttering angrily under her breath. But honestly, she had no one but herself to blame. Nearly half an hour of ignoring his not-so-delicately phrased hints and continuing to push in to his personal space had resulted in a predictable loss of temper. And _Grow a cock and some balls and I might – MIGHT – be interested._ had been a much milder rebuke than what he had originally planned to say.

He just wanted to be left in peace while he used alcohol for some stress relief. That shouldn't be too much to ask for. He sighed a little wistfully and buried his nose in his drink. Maybe he should have kept his hair tied up; that was probably the cause of a lot of the unwanted attention. Too late now. He gestured to the bartender for another drink (dirty martini with extra olives) and lifted the skewer out of his now empty glass. He was just sinking his teeth into the remaining olive when a low, almost gravelly voice spoke practically in his ear.

“Hey cutie.”

Iruka's shoulders stiffened and he slowly turned his head. A year ago he would have swung first and asked questions later, but he supposed being back in so-called civilization meant he needed to give the asshole a chance to explain himself before punching his lights out. At least that was what his reason told him. His libido – which had reacted to the implied promise in that voice – had a different story to tell.

When he got his head turned far enough to see the interloper he froze. There was something familiar about the man, but he couldn't imagine what. Counting his years of college he had been away from Konoha for a dozen years. How could he possibly know this man?

Kakashi fought down the urge to laugh at the other man's discomfort and obvious confusion. He remembered Umino Iruka quite well from First Hokage Academy, but he doubted the older man remembered him. He may have vague memories of a tiny, knobby-kneed eleven year old, but Kakashi was a long, long way from that boy.

And even if Umino did remember him he'd probably be surprised that Kakashi would talk to him, no doubt expecting some sort of grudge to still be held. Well, Kakashi had held a grudge for a few years, even clinging to it after Umino had graduated. But that had come to an abrupt halt one day in Kakashi's seventh year at the school when he had found himself staring at an old photo of the track team; a photo that featured Umino Iruka front and center. It was when his brain got stuck on thinking how attractive the other boy had been that he realized he was no longer angry about all the teasing he had endured as a first year.

A fact that had now brought them full circle.

Kakashi slid onto the bar stool beside Iruka with a slight smile, glancing at the other man as he did so. He indicated to the bartender that he'd have the same as Iruka, then turned and met the other man's eyes. “You don't remember me, do you?” he asked, picking up what was left of the olive that Iruka had bitten and popping it in his mouth. Kakashi was wearing a scarf but it was pooled around his neck, leaving his face bare. The other obvious clue to his identity was mostly hidden under a soft newsboy style cap.

Iruka shook his head and took a sip of the refreshed drink the bartender had just placed in front of him. “I feel like I should, though,” he said, taking a long moment to study the man beside him.

Kakashi laughed. “Well I did give you a clue with what I said a minute ago, but that may require too much connecting the dots. Maybe this will help more.” And he tugged off his cap and gave his head a shake, letting his messy, pale, silvery hair flop in disarray around his head.

For a long moment Iruka just stared, trying to formulate some sort of response. That would have been easier if his thought processes weren't being drowned out by an excess of mental static. And when the static cleared his mind latched on to only one thought: _Damn, he grew up! And grew up HOT!_. He could feel the flush rising to his face and took a gulp of his martini to try and cover it up. The alcohol burned his throat and it took a few coughs to clear his throat enough to speak. “Hatake,” was all he said.

Kakashi grinned. “Umino,” he drawled, letting his good eye lazily roam down the length of the other man's body and then back up to his face in a frank, and clearly appreciative, appraisal.

The flush on Iruka's face darkened, but now he didn't mind it. Not when it was clear that the attraction was mutual. He chewed on his lower lip briefly while duplicating Kakashi's action; a long, visual sweep down to the toes and back up to the spiky, pale hair, before dropping slightly to focus on Kakashi's mouth. He leaned a little closer and spoke just loud enough to be heard.

“Let me at him.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title is an homage of sorts to _Hero's Comeback_ , the first opening theme of the Shippuden anime. The Twisted Oak is a bar/restaurant in the city I live in where one particular bartender makes the BEST dirty martinis and always gives me extra olives. :D


End file.
